All the way there, and all the way back
by falling into heaven
Summary: When Thom is injured, he agrees to help Nikita and Alex, but his developing relationship with Alex may put them all in danger. A different version of 1x11, and the events thereafter. AU to the series post ep11.
1. Shoot and Run

I. HATE. NIKITA.

Thom rocked. But 'All The Way' was quite cool for the Thalex... till the death. But when he talked about her being strong... and how he'd be there... and when she didn't say it was a lie... and when she KISSED HIM! She so loved him. But I almost cried when she said "I'm not leaving him!"

Right. Since Nikita now officially sucks for me, I'm going AU, and Thom will survive. Here's my version of All The Way, and I'll either make up what happens after, or spin the series to suit my Universe.

Good times. Please review?

Anna :)

* * *

Alex leaned against her locker, bracing her hands on either side, trying to gather her thoughts. She'd agreed to help Nikita to bring Division down, not kill for them. But if she didn't do this, then they'd kill _her_, and what good could she do then? It was the sort of moral quandry one hopes never to be challenged with. But Alex was. She was going to have to sacrifice some part of herself - either her moral purity, or her life. She wasn't entirely sure which was worse. But if she did do it... Michael would be there, backing her up. Well, more like scrutinizing her every move, but it would be good to have her mentor there anyway.

And Thom. He would be there. He was still mad at her, for the whole kiss-and-get-a-beatdown thing, for playing him like a fiddle in an Irish pub, but he was a good person. He'd put that aside for the mission.

She hoped.

"Nervous?" a familiar voice asked, and she jumped slightly, turning towards it. Thom stood, chin tilted up almost defiantly, dressed in the standard Division suit. He didn't look as sharp as Michael and the other field operatives, just... like Thom. He glanced down for a moment, before meeting her eyes. "I was nervous too, before my final test."

"Why?" she asked calmly, though she felt anything but inside. "Should I be nervous? You're gonna be there, right?" Though she spoke with attitude, Alex's heart thumped wildly at the thought of Thom not being there, not being within reaching distance.

Not there to save her if she failed.

"I'm just running interfere." he pointed out, moving towards her slightly. "You're the one that has to carry the ball."

She hated him using metaphors. It was typically Division... _cancelled, _being a classic example. She didn't want to think of Thom as part of the Division machine. She needed him to be the pure, real thing in her life. Some sanity against the confusion, torment. "Or I get benched." she replied cuttingly. "I know their metaphors."

"Yeah, listen I didn't come here to give you a pep talk. I just wanted to warn you to watch your back." he explained in what she'd recognised as his reserved tone. "Jaden's coming after you."

Alex brushed her hair out of her face, fully aware of their proximity; it was the point just past polite, so that she could feel the tension, but couldn't act upon it. Infuriating, really. "Why, has she said something to you?"

Thom said nothing, simply clenching and unclenching his jaw, looking down.

"She's always had it in for me." continued Alex, using the same quiet voice. "'Cause she thinks you an' I are... y'know." Thom looked up sharply. "Together."

"Well she's mistaken." he told her with such a hardness in his face that Alex felt slightly taken aback, and even more hatred for Division. They were changing him. She held his gaze, no emotion flickering across her face. "Anyway," he continued, breaking the tension slightly. "I thought you should know."

Alex sucked in her breath as he brushed past her, body breezing against hers. As panic and fear rose within her, she spun around. "Thom..." she spoke his name with a tone laced with her emotions, voice trembling just slightly. He turned back to face her, hands still in pockets. "What's it like?"

Thom looked at her, and for the first time since the kiss, he'd seen his Alex again. The Alex that was vunerable and young, who he wanted to protect from the world, and protect the world from her. She had a tortured beauty which belonged in a novel, but behind her bravado was a terrified little girl trying to find her way. He knew that.

"To pull the trigger." she elaborated, barely able to hold his gaze.

"Well I can tell you what it's not like." he bargained, resuming his place near to her. "It's not like the person's there one minute, and gone the next. They stay. It's been over a month, and the girl I killed? The spy? I still see her face. Everyday." he told her gently, eyes fixed on hers. He watched her swallow, eyes glistening with the tears he knew she was fighting. Always fighting.

"Thanks for the pep talk." she replied, barely able to get the words out thanks to the growing lump in her throat as she thought about the man she was going to be killing, the life she was going to take for the cause she didn't believe in. The man whose face would haunt her, night and day.

"You'll be okay, Alex." he told her, complete faith in the words. "You're strong. Stronger than me. I knew it the day I met you."

She watched him walk away, and wondered if the pain in her chest would ever stop, if the aching would ever go away. She feared that it may not. From what she'd experienced so far, the task was going to be harder than she'd ever anticipated. She needed help.

* * *

Thom surveyed the party with experienced eyes. He may have only been a field agent for just over a month, but he'd grown accostomed to watching, to noticing the small details that people missed during his year-long training. At Division, the way you advanced was to react to the environment around you. So he noticed the woman flirting subtly with the man who wasn't her husband. He noticed the wife who's hand drifted one too many times to her abdomen, automatically shielding her undborn baby. She noticed the man who would most likely have a heart attack in the next three days, judging from his symptoms. As soon as he handed the woman in front of the bar a drink, Alex swept into her place, looking tense. "Could I have a glass of water, please?" she asked in a controlled voice.

He nodded, reaching under the bar, sliding across a napkin, with the syringe hidden underneath. "Absolutely." She placed her hand on the edge, fingers brushing his. He felt the familiar sensation in his stomach, and hoped he and Alex wouldn't be on the same operation again. Worrying about her was too distracting. Of course, lying awake at night thinking about her wasn't very helpful either, but that was another matter. "Hey."

She glanced up, breathing quickly, eyes locking with his.

"I'll be right here." he reassured her, knowing that whatever happened, he was going to get her through it.

She nodded, sliding the package away, leaving a cold breeze against his fingers where hers had been. he hadn't realised her hands were so warm.

* * *

_Click._

Alex dropped the gun in horror, vaguely aware of someone calling her name. But she couldn't focus on anything but Thom rithering in pain, blood leaking from the bullet wound in his side. He groaned, and she instantly covered his hands with her own, feeling the blood leak slowly across the fabric of his shirt. She thought back to the time in his room, how being in his arms, she'd felt safer than ever before. And when she kissed him, it wasn't just to save Nikita. She'd kissed him with as much emotion as she'd felt.

"Alex, we have to go." Nikita told her quickly.

"I shot him." Alex replied, stunned.

"Alex... that wound's not fatal. He's gonna get better, and tell them everything." Nikita informed her, pulling at her arm.

Alex glared at her. "Fine. I'll handle it, I'll think of something. But I'm not going to leave him."

"Don't get personal, Alex."

Alex's hand tightened against Thom's, and she felt his gaze on her. "I didn't mean to shoot him, Nikita. I'm not going to let him die. Not for me. I'm not worth dying over. All he's done is try protect me. All the time. I am _not _leaving him!"

Nikita appraised her friend, before nodding. "Fine, I have an idea. But he's not going to like it."

"No-" Thom groaned, his free hand moving across to Alex's.

She glared at Nikita. "You are not going to hurt him."

"No. He's going to become a mole." she replied simply. "Look, Thom... with that wound, you're not going back to work for another four months, not being a new agent. Alex can keep helping me, and you can live, and do good. You're coming with me."

"No-"

"It wasn't a question, sweetheart."

"A-lex..." he gasped, gripping Nikita's arm as she pulled him upright. "Was it... a lie?"

Her eyes filled with tears, and she used her free hand to cup his cheek, leaning in and kissing him gently on the lips, tears running down her cheek to his. "No." she whispered. His face softened slightly, and he gritted his teeth, leaning forwards again to catch her lips with his.

Nikita smiled slightly, before clearing her throat. "We have to go, Thom. If you care about Alex - which I can tell is true - you'll do this. You know we're right. You had doubts of your own."

Alex continued to cry silently as Thom nodded. "I'll be in contact when I can. When I'm out."

Nikita replace Alex's hand on Thom's wound with her own, nodding at her. "Stay safe. You have doubts, let me know and I'll figure something out."

As Nikita pulled Thom to his feet and towards the pipes she knew would help them escape, Alex watched quietly, praying to God they would all make it through alive.


	2. History Repeats

**title: **All the way there and all the way back

**a/n: **okay, I know this has been forever. But I've had a ridiculous amount of work to do, and three exams, plus coursework. Hence, ... not the top of my priority list. Hell, it's been a long few weeks. On a slightly more relevant note... anyone seen the Shane West interview where he talks about possible love interests on zapit or wherever? He doesn't want michael&alex! Heartbroken, truly.

Plus... cannot wait for Castle. KISS! Yay. And Tony's getting an origin on NCIS in spring.

FINALLY... dude, Ashton Holmes can SING. I listened to 'Talk to me' by Method of Groove on YT, and I love them. One hitch; song isn't sold ANYWHERE that I can find. (UK, boo) so if any of you happen to have the CD (448 pearls) and would like to email me the songs... ILY.

**ships: **hints of thom&alex, michael&alex.

**disclaimer:**Ok, seriously, I own nada, otherwise michael would've kissed alex by now. But I'm still hopeful.

**warnings: **Not much. Some mild language, suggestion of torture. Head games. Nothing fun :)

* * *

Thom opened his eyes wearily, trying to recognise his surroundings. The room was spacious, like an old warehouse, or abandones building that had once held itself with grandeur but had long since been forgotten. Someone had replaced some of the old furniture with a computer set, rack of clothes and several weapons caches. He tried to sit up, but was stopped by two things. First was the searing pain in his side as though a white hot knife was being driven through his flesh, and the second was the binds around his wrists and ankles, strapping him to the bed. Thom fought for a moment, before the pain overcame his senses and he laid back, breathing in through his nose and out through his mouth, trying to control it, to focus.

"I'm sorry about the restraints. They're crude, I know... but the last guy who got shot and ended up here tried to kill me, so I'm sure you can understand my caution." a female voice informed him chattily. Nikita stepped into his field of vision, dressed in an oversized grey jersey t-shirt that Thom figured to be some fancy designer, and tight black leggins. She held a knife in one hand, toying with the blade with the other.

Thom's muscles immeadiately tightened as he braced himself back into the bed, jaw set. "Alex isn't here anymore. What are you going to do to me?"

Nikita cocked her head, looking perplexed. "What?"

"Knives? Is that what you like to use?" he carried on, morbid curiosity getting the better of him. If she were going to torture him, he'd like to be fully aware of what would happen, to pace himself mentally.

"Would I have removed the bullet from your side, removed your tracker and given you a blood transfusion if I did?" she dismissed. "If I wanted you dead, you'd be dead."

"Blood transfusion? How did you get that?"

"I have friends." she replied vaguely.

He regarded her cautiously, as though he was sizing her up. "What do you want from me?"

"I don't want anything from you, except for you to stop thinking I'm a psychopathic killing machine. That's Roan, if I'm not much mistaken." pointed out Nikita, sitting on the edge of the bed next to him. "I need Division to think you're my mole, so Alex's cover stays intact. If they figure out she's really the mole, she'll be tortured and killed. You, with your injury and lack of experience, you're looking at three months on the bench. Hopefully, by that time Division'll be collapsing around Percy's ears."

Thom laughed humourlessly. "You realise that it'll never work, don't you? Once Division's gone, the Government will just form another group just like it, to do the exact same job, with most of the same people. Cut one head off, another just grows in its place."

"Maybe. But they might not be as corrupt as Division is. Its become Percy's private mercenary company, loaned out to clean up after messy criminals and organised crime. Its rotten." she replied fiercely.

Thom pulled at his restraints again, before looking pointedly at Nikita. You mind cutting me out of these things? I'm losing circulation to my hands and feet."

She pointed the knife at him. "As I said, last guy tried to strangle me with his legs, and I stabbed him in the thigh. He was a former Division cleaner. You I would have no problem cutting if you tried anything, alright? You're oh-for-two against me. Three strikes and you're out."

"Division rubbed off on you, huh? I don't mean the violence. The metaphors. We never say what we really mean."

Nikita leaned over him, slicing easily through the restraints. "Fine. You go for me, I kill you. That simple enough?"

He rubbed his red-rimmed wrists, wincing as he tried to sit up. "Yeah, that'd do it."

"I've given you a small dose of morphine, but I'm reluctant to give you more. Last thing I need is you passing out and slipping into a coma. Look, Thom... I know you don't trust me. All you know now is Division, so why would you? But what I'm asking from you now is to just go with this, and don't cause problems. For Alex, not for me. Remember that everytime you hurt this... operation, you hurt her, okay?"

"Fine." he sighed, leaning back against the pillow. "For Alex, not for you."

She stood up, stretching so that the jersey rose up so the material clung to her body. "Good. Glad that's sorted. Veggie shake?"

"Why not?" Thom wasn't entirely sure what was going on, but he knew that he was just going to have to roll with it. He couldn't risk Alex getting hurt.

* * *

Alex felt the familiar panic rising within her as the invisible band tightened around her chest. She took deep, gulping breaths as she tried to slow her heartbeat, eyes squeezed shut. All she could think about was the blood seeping from Thom's side as Nikita clamped her hand over the wound as she dragged him towards the air vent that would lead them to freedom. Birkhoff had anhialated the shell program so she had no way of knowing if he had survived. She knew they'd got away, thanks to Percy's little pep talk in his office. He'd told her that she had graduated, but advised that she would not get her own apartment at first, thanks to the _traumatic nature _of her graduation, as Amanda had so sweetly put it. She had no idea who she'd be living with, she just hoped that they were a heavy sleeper, and didn't take forever in the bathroom.

She shook her wrists out, trying to relieve the adrenelin and the panic in her body. If she couldn't control her emotions, she would be no good to Nikita.

There was a knock at the door, and Alex quickly called, "Just a minute!" Michael strode in, ignoring her. "What, 'm I not speakin' English?" she snapped, her accent thickening to 'teen whore' as Michael called it. If she wasn't careful, she'd be speaking with Ukranian accent soon.

Michael looked at her, his eyes filled with barely-concealed concern. "Are you okay? Your accent's slipped."

She let out a shaky breath, running a hand through her curly hair. "Yes. Fine."

He moved closer, hands resting on her shoulders, squeezing slightly. "Alex, look at me. _Look at me. _" He repeated as she stared defiantly to the side. After a brief pause, she turned her head to face him. "Alex, are you okay?"

She nodded, but her trembling lower lip defied her.

He sighed. "It wasn't your fault, okay? Thom betrayed you, he betrayed all of us. None of us expected it. It's not your fault, and you should stop thinking it is, okay?"

Alex pulled her game face into action, trying to fool Michael into believeing that she was accepting his words. But in truth, she could do nothing _but _torture herself. It was _her _fault that Thom was out, and _her _fault that he'd been shot. She's shot him, for goodness'sake. But Michael couldn't know that. Because if he did, he would want to know why.

Michael studied her face, the barely concealed torment colouring her blue eyes to a hazy grey colour, and he filled with sympathy. He knew the feeling. When his wife and child were murdered, he could feel nothing but guilt and pain coursing through his blood and bones like a raging fire. He tilted his head. "I might be able to do something to take your mind off it."

Alex stared up at him, jaw slackening slightly at his words. Granted, she felt _something _for him, even if she didn't quite know how to catagorise those feelings. But she was _sure _that he had something going on with Nikita. At least, from the wistful look in her eye and the adamant defense of his every action, she could presume that Nikita had feelings for him. "I - um, I-"

His eyes widened as he realised how he had interpreted her words, and withdrew his hands from her immeadiately, stepping out of her personal space. "Oh! Sorry, I... I meant I could ask Percy for permission for you to run. Outside, I mean. If we could run outside, you could get some fresh air, clear your head."

She smiled, nodding. "Yeah. That'd be good."

He stepped back towards the door. "Give me ten minutes to find Percy and change."

Sinking down onto her bed, Alex tried not to think about the mild disappointment churning in her stomach at Michael's reaction to how she had taken his words. It made her feel like a cheap hooker again, and that was a way she never wanted to feel. He'd looked at her in the same way as the respectable buisnessmen who had been offered her services back in the Ukraine.

She didn't want to feel cheap.

* * *

"Percy, Alex lost her friend. The one other person in here who actually gave a damn whether or not she was around. Now, she's got no-one. She's on her own, and she'd fighting her corner solo. Just give me chance to help her clear her head." Michael reasoned as calmly as he could manage.

The look he received from his boss was withering to say the least. "Michael, you know the rules. If we let recruits run around, free, outside these walls, we'd risk exposure. It's simply not feasable."

"She's got a tracker between her ribs, and me on the other side. How would she get away, precisely?"

"She reminds me a little too much of Nikita, for me to trust her fully, Michael. I'm surprised it hasn't occured to you... Unless it has. Unless you're trying to repeat history..."

Michael bristled at the mention of Nikita, scowling. In truth, it had occured to him from her first day at Division. No, when he was watching her in the prison back in Michigan. The strength and ferocity with which she fought instantly sent him flashing back to the young Nikita. And in truth, he did have certain attraction to her. At first, it was for her similarities to Nikita, if not in looks. But then... then he started noticing their differences.

Nikita had never looked for confirmation that she had done a job well, or praise. But when Alex had figured out the meeting between the reporter and her source so long ago, when he had told her she'd done well, and even smiled slightly, she returned the expression with a radiance unparalleled at Division. She still had a glimmer of childish hope, if under a small pile of attitude, negativity and brazenness.

Percy smirked, infinately pleased with his own observational skills. "I thought so. Now you can see why I don't fully trust your opinion when it comes to _Alexandra._"

"Alex." Michael corrected automatically. "But Birkhoff can monitor us the whole time. We can wear comms. Just give her a chance, Percy. She has more potential than anyone we've seen here in a long time. If you give her the chance, _trust her_, she could become one of the best."

"As good as Nikita?" he raised an eyebrow goadingly. "I think you'll agree, she was a spectacular force to be reckoned with."

"Better. Alex has something Nikita always struggled to find."

"And what is that. The ability to blend in the 'burbs?"

Michael ignored the racist dig, and glared at his boss. "Compassion."

A long minute passed as Percy scrutinised his young Lieutenant. He was ever-faithful and ever-obedient, but since Alex had arrived, he had had the same look in his eye, the same worrying pride of his latest recruit. But unfortuantely, he was also correct. Alex had potential, that much was for sure. "Fine. _With _comms, and activated trackers. But you can have your run, Michael, if you're so sure this is what she needs."

* * *

The door swung open and Alex jumped up in the same movement. Michael stood with his arms folded, dressed in a black t-shirt with a grey hooded sweatshirt and black sweatpants. He looked good. It was a stranger good, different somehow. As though she was starting to see a different Michael, not just the Michael who trained and shaped the recruits.

It scared her.

She was starting to become accustomed to Division's way of thinking, of their people. Granted, Amanda still gave her the heebie-jeebies, and it would be a lie to say that Percy didn't inimidate her. But the recruits didn't scare her, and Birkhoff was a pushover.

What scared her even more was that she was comfortable with it.

She really needed to see Nikita.

"Congratulations." he greeted her, stretching his neck gingerly, rubbing a musclejoining his neck to his shoulder. "Percy's given permission for an outside run. But... there are some... conditions."

"Of course there are." Alex sighed.

"Tracker switched on remotely by Birkhoff, and these." in one hand sat two wireless earpieces and two clip-on microphones, small and discreet. "C'mere." He clipped the microphone to the front of her white vest-top, handing her the earpiece, before pushing his own into his ear. "These will be monitored by Birkhoff, and I think it's safe to assume Percy will be listening too. And probably Amanda, just for kicks."

Alex chuckled at his expression as he mention the woman who acted as a shrink and stlyish, but doubled as a pschological and physical torturer. Not a job overlap which is pleasant for anyone involved. The woman seemed to enjoy psychological manipulation at an almost sociopathic level. Also not one of Alex's fave five, so to speak. "I can live with it. Thank you, Michael."

He grinned, leading her towards the elevator, before turning to her. "I'm sorry. It's medieval, but protocol nonetheless."

She grimaced as her secured a blindfold over her eyes and her world was plunged into darkness. A few minutes later, she took a lungful of air, smelling the fertiliser, grass and pollen that people complained about so regularly. But after only breathing in the clinically filtered air of Division, and overly-scented air surrounded the few sleazebags she'd been forced to associate with while on operations.

Michael removed the blindfold, smiling at her. "You ready?"

"Race you." she laughed, setting off at a steady jog across the grey pathway towards the green fields.

0o0o0o0o0o0o

Birkhoff raised a hand in greeting as Percy and Amanda took their respective seats, the room filled with the sound of Alex and Michael's rhythmic breathing over the comms system, the screen showing their surprisingly speedy progress across the spanse of fields surrounding Division.

"So why am I here, exactly?" Amanda asked demurely, studying the open file on her lap.

"Because I still don't know what to make of Michael and Alex's... relationship. I want to know what I'm dealing with, and quite how much to trust him. How badly his judgement had been compromised." Percy relied with a frown.

"C'mon, guys. Other than Nikita, when has Michael _ever _been disloyal-" Birkhoff began, but was cut off by Percy.

"During the Mirko Dadich operation. He covered for her, made it easy. Damn near ruined the operation, too. And I'm fairly sure there was more to Alex's failure on the assassination than he's letting on, too. Whether he's covering for her or Nikita, I'm not sure." Percy snapped.

Amanda nodded slightly. "Okay. I'll try to get an idea of the context and severity of their relationship... and how it can be used. " she smiled.

Birkhoff raised his eyebrows. _Holy shit, Mike. I hope you know what you're getting yourself into..._

**a/n 2: **Ok, I seem to be going down the michael&alex route. Mainly because I follow Ashton Holmes' twitter, and he's funny, witty and sassy so to speak, and Thom kind of doesn't live up to that. But I'll try keep a balance and remain impartial.

Look out for:  
the run  
the head games and psychoanalysis  
the return of Owen

**Review please, you lovely people :)**


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